


Drought

by dactyliin (Volant)



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Feelings, Fluff, M/M, Requited Love, accidental thought reading, the writer shamelessly purple proses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 17:33:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18056999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Volant/pseuds/dactyliin
Summary: Spock comes from a desert planet; Jim makes him think of water.





	Drought

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-upload of a one shot of generally the same name. I cleared out my AO3 accounts at the beginning of this year as part of a "get my life together" resolution and I've finally reached a good place where I feel I can upload old (and complete) fics. Enjoy!

Vulcans do not drink liquids as often as humans do. Millennia of evolution upon a desert planet have resulted in this difference between the species. Logically, Spock only requires one gallon of water to every three consumed by the average human male. He is adequately hydrated.

And yet, Spock thirsts. 

“Spock,” Jim says. “Earth to Mr. Spock.”

This is the reason for Spock’s traitorous biological system: Captain James T. Kirk, wearing only a regulation undershirt and a pair of boxer briefs that are decidedly  _ not _ regulation, sitting cross-legged on Spock’s meditation mat, surrounded by stacks of padds detailing the makeup of a particularly fascinating chemical compound that they had discovered earlier that week on a planet. A planet, the name of which Spock is currently unable to recall, because Jim is pulling up the hem of his undershirt to wipe at a bead of sweat that has collected on his chin, revealing his bare torso, the light dusting of reddish hair across his chest and belly, the delicate detail of his intercostal musculature-

“I know you’re used to higher temperatures on Vulcan,” Jim says, replacing the cloth over his body, “but would you mind turning it down a little? Please?”

Following a series of incidents that have resulted in significant water damage to the Captain’s quarters, Jim has taken up refuge in Spock’s on the grounds that he would prefer “that his crew know where to find him” rather than having to take the time to find his temporary lodgings should an emergency arise. 

“Computer,” Spock says. “Lower room temperature to seventy-five degrees fahrenheit.” Immediately, the vents begin to release cooler air into the room.

“Thank you,” Jim says, earnestly. “Have you had a chance to look at this thing’s molecular structure yet?”

“I have not, Captain.”

“Jim,” Jim says, his face the picture of a patient teacher. “Come sit. Maybe you’ll see something I’m not- we’ve got to be able to replicate this thing somehow.”

Spock is unsure if he will be able to resist temptation; nevertheless, he joins Jim on the floor, and leans close to view the padd that Jim has been looking through for the last twelve-point-two minutes. Unable to gain an accurate visual of the molecular model, Spock reaches to take the padd from Jim. Their hands brush, and Spock hears Jim’s sudden intake of breath. Unaware, Spock claims the padd and begins to review the information it contains, until- moments later- Jim releases a breath.

“Spock,” Jim says. “What was that?”

“Jim?” Spock says. He does not glance up.

“Was that you? Was that your mind?” 

Spock freezes. Of course, he reflects, it is only logical that his shields would not be enough to withstand Jim’s physical presence. Where usually he is able to limit their telepathic contact to little more than a mental whisper, his inattentiveness seems to have resulted in something...more.

“Jim,” Spock says. He looks up and meets his captain’s gaze. “Any transference that occurred was unintentional.”

Jim shakes his head, and then places a hand on Spock’s shoulder, pressing down, holding Spock in place- as though Jim fears that Spock will move away.

“You think I’m like water in a desert, Mr. Spock,” Jim says. “I know.”

“Capt-”

“It’s Jim,” Jim says. “You know that.”

“Yes,” Spock says. He puts the padd to the side and allows Jim to shift forward on his knees. The scent of human sweat and Jim’s preferred brand of aftershave is sharp in the air. 

“Spock,” Jim says. He leans forward so that they rest cheek to cheek, chest to chest. Jim’s breath is warm on Spock’s skin. “Would you like to drink me?”

Spock lifts his hands and curls his fingers beneath the hem of Jim’s shirt. 

What else is there to say, but yes?


End file.
